aneventfulnight

An Eventful Night at the Wench

It was a quiet night at The Screaming Wench and Aimee was grateful. As proprietor of the tavern and inn, she had not seen a break in many nights. With business booming the way it had been, she would soon be able to afford to take a week off and head for the hills for a much needed respite.

The door slammed open, interrupting Aimee from her reverie. A chill blast accompanied three strangers as they entered the tavern. Demihumans they appeared to be: a wily looking halfling, a stout dwarf with a long beard, and a dark-skinned elf with his hood low over his head. She perked up. This could turn into an interesting night. If word spread around town about these strangers, she could earn enough this night to take her vacation early.

The halfling sauntered over to the bar and shot Aimee a wink.

“What'll it be?” Aimee asked.

“I'm Wild Weasel, but ye can call me Wild. The elf is Yerond, and the stinky one is Agnon. Ales all around.” Wild leaned closer. “An extra silver if ye drop a splash of perfume in the dwarf's tankard. Agnon's a'needin' it.”

Upon receiving the trio of ales, Wild headed to a table in the corner where his friends were seated. He found his vacant seat, but before he could claim it, a tall human with a glaring red cape snatched it up.

Yerond glanced up as Wild approached. “Wild, this is…Red. He is the one I told you about, our guide.”

Wild chuckled. “Yer name suits ya. Now get yer arse out of me seat unless yer buyin'.

The dwarf belched as he downed his tankard. “Pelor ain't lookin' too kindly on ya unless yer contributin' to his church.” Agnon belched again.

Yerond sighed. “The cleric often confuses the church's coffer with his own money pouch.”

Soon Wild and the others were happily drunk. Business was well under way.

***

At a table on the other side of the tavern, Kardann sat with his cohorts: Blair, Varl, and Narov. They were nursing their wounds from their most recent and disastrous campaign. A companion of theirs, Stanton, had turned traitor and they had barely escaped with their lives. The betrayal still left a bitter taste in their mouths. Word had it, though, that they would be able to recoup their losses tonight.

A new target had been chosen, and Balish was well-guarded. As a wealthy silk merchant, he surrounded himself with only the best of thugs. However, this particular lot he currently associated with appeared to be less intelligent than most. Arn and his twin, Jedar, were seated at either side of him. With only a glance, Kardann could tell that they didn't fall far from the tree. Johnners was quite the looker, though. He had a dark vibe about him. In a word, dangerous. Kardann would have to proceed carefully.

“Blair, Varl, take them from the left. Narov, you're with me.” Kardann started to approach them from the right.

Within seconds of them leaving their table, Johnners glanced at them. “I do believe your gig is up.”

All hell broke loose within the Wench. Aimee screamed that her dishes were being broken, and Wild heard her call. Not one to pass up a bar fight (besides, he could pilfer a few pockets along the way!), he turned to his friends. “Yerond, Agnon, there's a wench to be saved! The dwarf belched, the elf had his twin blades out before him, and the human known only as Red was there to back them up.

Agnon ran up to the twins and bashed their heads together. Arn and Jedar sunk to the floor like stones. He belched for good measure. Yerond had Kardann and Narov cornered, and Aimee crept up behind the two and knocked them out cold with a frying pan. Red dueled with Johnners, and their fight took them out of the Wench (and out of this story). Wild hamstrung Blair and Varl. With no one left standing, Balish ran out of the tavern willy-nilly.

By this point, the tavern was in ruins and Aimee was crying. Wild cleared his throat. "Why do ye think we let that blasted silk merchant get away? He didn't leave with much.” He tossed a money pouch onto the bar, and it fell with a resounding (and satisfying) clink.